What's Best
by CounterHegemonic
Summary: AU. Follows history but in an AU setting. Francis gives up his son Matthew for free rent. He grows up with the landlord and his son, Arthur and Alfred. Takes place in the 18th century. Please review.
1. Chapter 1

Mathieu was cooking dinner with his papa, Francis, when his life fell apart. He had been instructed to chop the peppers for the salad.

_"Now, be careful with that knife."_ Francis reached over and adjusted his hands. _"Never cut toward yourself and be careful to stay at least an a half-inch from your fingers at all times."_

"Oui, papa" Mathieu smiled at him. Francis smiled back, trying to keep the sadness out of his eyes. He had to make sure that Mathieu enjoyed the time he had left here as much as possible. Francis turned back to the stove where the pot was boiling. He knew that soon he would have to say goodbye to his beloved Mathieu.

They finished cooking and then sat down to eat the dinner. Francis gave advice as much as possible so that his child would remember etiquette when he left. Their fare wasn't much. Some potatoes and other assorted vegetables placed into a stew with an unidentified meat. Francis wished with all his heart that he could have raised Mathieu in the opulence that he had grown up in. But Francis knew there was no changing the past.

After they had finished eating and done the dishes, they was a knocking at the door. Mathieu went to go get it. The caller was their landlord, Arthur Kirkland.

"Oh, H-hello, Lord Kirkland." He bowed his head, as owed a man of his station. Francis was suddenly glad that he had taught Mathieu proper courtesy. After greeting the man, he walked back toward Francis, thinking that his papa would protect him. How wrong he was, Francis thought sadly. Francis had completely ignored the socially correct greeting and had stayed seated. He turned to Mathieu.

"Why don't you go choose a bedtime story? I'll be in their in a minute."

"Oui, papa."

"English, Mathieu, we have a visitor."

"Yes, papa." He turned and walked into the bedroom. They both watched him go. Francis couldn't help but think cynically that Mathieu would never get that bedtime story.

Arthur compared the boy to Alfred, his son. They were a lot alike, just not in personality.

"Have you made a decision yet? I gave you a month." There was no friendliness in his statement, just business.

"Restate the terms again."

"The boy will come with me, to be treated exactly like my son excluding title and inheritance and you will pay no rent on this apartment until the boy is eighteen." Eleven years of free rent was hard to turn down. Especially since Francis wouldn't be able to afford the rent next month anyway. And that doesn't include food.

"Fine. I'll take your offer." Arthur smirked. He had won, as usual. He pulled out his pocket watch luxuriously.

"I'll give you five minutes to say farewell." Give me, like he controls everything, he thought furiously. He didn't want to admit that Arthur did. Francis wasn't normally a violent man, but he had to mentally restrain himself from punching the arrogance off of his face.

Francis stood and left the room. Mathieu was kneeling at the pile of books at the corner.

"What about Aesop's Tales, papa?" He looked up at him, book in hand. He stopped when he saw the tears in his eyes. "Papa, what's wrong?"

"Matthew, you're going to leave here."

"Why, papa?" Francis didn't respond. "Was I bad?"

"No, Mathieu, you were the best son in the whole world. But I want you to be happy and I can't take care of you anymore."

"I don't want to leave you, papa." Mathieu was now crying as well, beads of salt water trickled down his face. "I'm happy here."

"You have to go, Mathieu. I just want you to remember one thing." He hugged his son hard, knowing he would never see him again. "I love you so much and just want whats best for you."

"I love you too, papa."

Hey, you guys. Okay so here's the new story. I know I probably should be continuing the old ones but I keep getting ideas. This story is posted from England! I just moved here from Florida so theirs a large change. Plus I get deja vu wherever I go.

Hoped you like the story. The time period is somewhere in the seventeenth or eighteenth century.

PLEASE REVIEW


	2. Chapter 2

Matthew was awoken by the noise of shouting and the presence of someone jumping onto his bed. He blinked his eyes open when a hand was waved in front of his face.

"Hey, Mattie. You're up, finally." His response came as a groan as Matthew turned over and put the pillow over his head. Alfred snatched the pillow and threw it across the room. It hit one of the maids, bringing them breakfast. Fortunately, she didn't drop the tray. She had grown used to the two boys' (Mainly Alfred's) antics.

Alfred reached down and flipped Matthew over. Being about a year older and stronger then him, it wasn't hard.

"Did you stay up reading again?"

"Maybe."

"What did I tell you about that? And besides the day before our birthday, seriously?" Matthew's and Alfred's birthdays were three days apart so they were celebrated together on July 4th every year.

"Ugh, don't remind me."

"Come on, you should be excited. You're eleven."

"My birthday was three days ago."

"Well, we're celebrating it today."

"Today's your birthday."

"It's partly yours too. You can't just not get up. Aren't you excited about the surprise?" Arthur had been disclosing hints all week that they would have some sort of special surprise for their birthday.

"Yes. And I will get up. Just not joyfully."

"Fine. So who were you reading this time?"

"Voltaire."

"Weird name."

"It's French."

"You're reading in French?"

"No, its been translated."

"Oh." Although they didn't speak of it directly, it was one of Arthur's rules that French was not to be spoken in the house, Matthew had diligently followed the rule.

"If you get off of me, I'll get up." Alfred wiggled off the bed and walked out.

"Don't you dare go back to sleep." He shouted over his shoulder.

Matthew sighed and stood up, slipping into the clothes someone had laid out. He grabbed a bite of the scones, the maid had brought in and combed his hair down. He went off to find Alfred who no doubt was running around, terrorizing the staff, breaking class objects, and in general wreaking havoc to waste time. He set off down the hallway, listening for crashing or yelling nosies. He passed Arthur, with his nose immersed in the latest report or political essay. He looked up.

"Oh, Al- Matthew."

"Good morning, Father. How are you?"

"Fine, have your read Montaigne's latest essay?"

"Is there a new one? I read the one about democracy."

"Yes, I'll send it over when I'm finished."

"Thank you, Father." They both continued walking.

Matthew found Alfred in the garden, trampling flower beds, while he ran about. The gardener stood by angrily, wanting to yell at the kid but scared for his job.

"Al, get off of the flowers. They're so pretty. It's not nice to trample them." Alfred looked down.

"Oops, I didn't know they were there." He stepped off. At that point, one of the maids, Elizaveta, from Eastern Europe, came out from the house. Even though she was a maid, Alfred had some begrudging respect for her. She was so nice to them, but stern when needed. Matthew had respect for anyone who could deal with Alfred.

"Hey, you two. The Master wants you. And happy birthday!" Alfred ran ahead into the house; Matthew followed. When Matthew reached Elizaveta, he was stopped.

"Matthew, Michele told me to give this to you." The look on his face showed discomfort and was that anger, you didn't often see on Matthew's face. Then he smiled at her and took the envelope in Elizaveta's outstretched hand.

"Thank you." He took the envelope and ran off. Once he was out of sight, he stopped with the envelope, the smell of roses reaching his nose. He took a deep breath; his face set in determination. And ripped the letter in half. Then he couldn't contain his feelings, and ripped the pages, again and again. He ripped them until the pages were too small to grip anymore and they fell out of his hands, he watched as they were blown away by the wind. Then he went to go find his family.

~~~Notes~~~

I took AP European History so that's where I got the people. Voltaire wrote Candide which satires European society(Hilarious). Montaigne is the founder of skepticism and inventor of the essay. I got a five! On both courses! :D

Yes, Alfred is a destructive child, have you heard the term bull in a china shop=alfred.

Elizaveta is the head maid.

Seychelles=Michele who is also a maid. Seychelles is friends with Francis.

I really hope you got the note was from Francis

I apologize for the short chapter(From now on I will attempt for every chapter of mine to be over 1, 500 words. Sorry but I have to go to bed now.) You'll see what the surprise is next time.

Now I am waking up at 5 tomorrow to go to camp at Wales(Not Brecon Beacons, unfortunately. Kudos if you got the reference. Alex Rider!) and I will not have internet. So no fics get updated but I will try to write on the bus there and back. So you'll have to wait.

I am still looking for a beta. Please help.

PLEASE REVIEW!


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